


Quarky Dancing

by NervousAsexual



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Crack, Dirty Dancing, I wrote and then immediately discarded this for a rarepair swap a year ago, M/M, and now you all must look upon it and despair, found it again while going through old notebooks, i have no way to explain this, perhaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 16:11:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousAsexual/pseuds/NervousAsexual
Summary: The finale of another piece of media entirely happens in Quark's bar, and everyone mambos.





	Quarky Dancing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deathstar510](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathstar510/gifts).



> I feel like this fandom skews heavily between extremely serious, detailed examinations of character and wacky spaced out shenanigans. Guess which one this is.

"Well well well well well well well," Quark said, looking up from the bar. "Look what the wormhole dragged in."

Garak gave his usual shit-eating grin. "What visit to the station could be complete without a drink at Quark's?"

"Flattery will get you no where." Quark slung a drink down to Morn, who stared at Garak instead of reacting. The synthehol sailed off the corner of the bar and disappeared into a crowd of Romulan tourists.

"It got me off Carddassia, for the moment. How does that Terran saying go? 'Bribery is the most sincere form of flattery?'"

"Can't say I've heard that one. Sounds more like a rule of profit." Quark climbed atop the bar, steadying himself on the heads of his patrons.

The sexual tension was palpable. Also it was probably the fumes from the synthehol. Either way, a Klingon concertina player, drawn by the chemistry, hustled into the bar and began to play something with a mambo beat.

The shit-eatin' grin on Garak's face grew wider by half. He took a series of rhythmical steps toward the bar. "And what's wrong with that?"

Quark gave him the sexiest smirk and the come-hither-est look. "Not a darn thing."

The bar crowd parted. Garak now danced up the bar, and behind him came a phalanx of other dancers. Behind him danced Ezri, and Julian, and what appeared to be an astral projection of Sisko, and a mildly alarmed-looking Major Kira.

"I don't understand why this is happening," she said, but Garak was now aggressively soft-shoeing and the entire bar was jamming to the beat and nobody heard her.

Quark bobbed his head along to the music and didn't take his eyes off Garak. Garak quirked an eyebrow at him and held out his arms just a little bit, and with a grin Quark nodded to him.

A handful of customers in various states of intoxication reached up to take Quark's hand and helped him leap down to the floor. He hit the ground running.

Garak held up his hands and Quark leapt on them and for a shining moment he lifted Quark above his head and the crowd went wild and then they both went over backward and crashed to the floor.

"My spine!" said Garak.

"My face!" said Quark.

And the bar, always up for a party, danced on.

As they lay on the floor in pain, Garak and Quark saw a shadow appear over them. When they looked up they saw before them Ishka smiling down upon them.

"You looked great out there," she told Quark, and gave him a thumbs up. She then aggressively danced away.

"I knew we should have jitterbugged," Quark said.

"Gre'thor will be paved with my ashes before that happens," Garak returned.

And, finally, they went ahead and kissed.

**Author's Note:**

> This ship is Ishka-approved.  
> 


End file.
